Mexico City’s Rainy Season Is My Optimal Living State

There is a reason millions and millions of people live in Mexico City, it’s very hospitable to human life. Everyday is basically perfect — I can’t remember a single day in the last two years where the weather was truly bad. It just varies a teensy bit in temperature, humidity, wind and sun levels throughout the year, thanks to its high elevation in the tropics (it’s the best of both worlds).

Right now is the rainy season, which is my favorite. The humidity is a bit higher than normal, making it easier on the skin and the lungs. The temperature never gets higher than 75, nor lower than 55. The sun shines all day, while clouds slowly build in the late afternoon; it sometimes rains at night. The air is clean, crisp and comforting. You can wear a sweater or a tank top and be comfortable either way. Meaning, it’s an absolute paradise (while lowland Mexico is a steam room this time of year).

Plus, stuff blooms. Like crazy.

The center of a very very large bloom, spotted in the park today.

Not as close up. Any guesses?

It's the giant bloom on a 20-foot banana tree!

Communing with Giant Trees, Other Tourists

It’s always been a dream of mine to see the redwood forests in California, and I finally got to do so yesterday. However, we chose to visit the forest closest to San Francisco — Muir Woods National Monument — which, even on a crappy weather day, was basically swamped with humans. It’s a mere 12 miles from the city, a fact both amazing — what a lovely treasure to have so nearby — and detracting — tour buses swarm the place by mid-morning.

So, in our effort to have a quiet moment with the trees, we rashly took a hike up and away from the main path, without a map, not much water, no food, and absolutely no rain gear. After several soggy miles (and constantly drenched eyeglasses), my love of the trees turned into grouchiness, and I demanded we go back, quickly.

So we did, but it was still worth it, and next time, I’d like to go back to the really big redwood forests on the Oregon border, and camp, well-prepared.

The trees are magical, and I couldn’t help but talk to them and even pet them. Yes, I’m crazy. Do I care? No.

The slugs are as surprisingly huge as the trees.

I couldn't help but think of Star Wars: Return of the Jedi.

I am relieved that we humans somehow managed to leave a few of these trees standing for future generations.

What So Much of Mexico Really Looks Like

For all its natural beauty and amazing culture, Mexico is still a deeply impoverished country. People do the best they can, scraping together what work they can find. But there is no “American Dream” here — for a variety of complicated reasons, it is quite difficult to become a self-made man or woman in this country. If you’re born rich or poor, you’ll likely die that way — unless you immigrate to countries where people are given more freedoms to fight their way out of poverty.

When you leave Mexico City (or any of Mexico’s major cities) you quickly see a different reality. The countryside — once gorgeous — has been burned to clear land for crops, and many people live in simple cinderblock hovels, some with electricity and water, some without. The infrastructure has not been maintained, the roads are littered with deep potholes. People are standing on the side of the road, selling what they can.

My father-in-law — always an observant photographer — took these photos from our minivan as we left one giant oasis, Mexico City, for the small oasis of Malinalco. The two hour drive between the two locales is less idyllic, but beautiful in its own difficult way.

Churches are always the nicest buildings in the poor towns:

Many people still make their living off the earth:

Ahh…..Our Oaxacan Paradise Eco-Vacation

The first-half of our trip last week in Oaxaca was spent at the eco-resort Bahia de la Luna on Playa La Boquilla, near Puerto Angel, Mexico.

Again, because we like to do it our way, we purposely picked Bahia because of its remoteness and its individual cabana setting. I dislike large hotels, especially many of ‘em all lined up in a row on an otherwise lovely beach. They tend to destroy the ecosystem in many ways (beach erosion, broken reefs from too many people dumbly kicking them, sewage) and plus I am just not a giant people-lover, particularly if I’m trying to relax.

However, remote equals challenging to get to. The last three miles of the drive to Bahia are on a steep, rutted, sandy road. It made the previous stomach-churning 6 hours seem like fluffy cupcakes by comparison. Twice we got stuck in the sand, and Brendan had to perform 4×4 style driving in our compact rental car. Not fun. (Actually, he had a big grin, and I had my hand over my heart and my eyes closed.)

Once we arrived, it was all waves gently crashing, palm trees swaying and geckos squeaking. Yes! We were far from civilization (or, far enough). First day, after the long drive, in spite of the beauty around me, I kept wondering when I would shake off the accumulated stress from the past day and many months (it’s been a long time since we had a long vacation). Second day I could feel it slowly melting away, especially after I put on my snorkel and mask and discovered the beach was utterly spectacular for snorkeling (Puffer fish! Blennies!  And this was the first time in my snorkeling adventures that I was surrounded by schools of fish. Large schools — we’re talking hundreds of plate-sized yellow-and-black angelfish who didn’t care about me and just swam all around me, slowly. I spent a fun-but-futile 15 minutes diving down to point out a zebra eel to Brendan, who still maintains he never saw it in its lair.)

By the third day, I had no stress, except for all the de-tangling required after I went snorkeling and had to pull my long hair out of the mask’s plastic straps. Ouch. While not swimming or kayaking, we read under a little palm palapa, shaded from the sun, never too hot or too cold. (Sometimes my life feels like an eternal search for temperature happiness).

This was all aided by amazing food. Breakfast and lunch were pretty typical, but dinner was as healthy and tasty as healthy and tasty can be. They serve the catch of the day, freshly prepared, and so we ate octopus, red snapper, shark, and mahi-mahi. With salads like “strawberry and cucumber” or “spinach and orange slices.”

Fourth day? I didn’t expect this, but I was too relaxed?! I found myself doing something highly unusual: Pining for TV. Please, let me explain before you stop being my friend: Our cabana had two beds with mosquito netting, two lamps, a ceiling fan and a basic bathroom — no phone, no TV, no computer, no air conditioning, no cell phone service and no hot water. With no bar down at the beach (there’s alcoholic beverages for sale, but no people to sell them to you after a certain hour) and total darkness by 7 p.m, we spent enormous amounts of time reading under our insect-proof nets.

Even I, avid reader, needed something else to do after ingesting The Poisonwood Bible, People and US Weekly (last two are required beach reading, didn’t you know?)

In spite of my random attack of boredom, we do plan to go back, of course (even beach-hater Brendan had to admit “that was a fun beach vacation!”)

So, paradise: I’ll be back one day, hopefully soon, maybe with friends or relatives (Suzanne? Dana? Dora? Adam? Connie? Victory clan? Near-Frozen Minnesotans? Facebook friends?) We can bring our dominoes set, a deck of cards, maybe even Pictionary, and everyone: Bring your laptop loaded with movies ready for watching, under the netting, in total solitude.

Companions to None: Film Explores Street Dogs in Mexico

Flickr Photo by Pedro Rueda

If there are two things I love, it’s film documentaries and dogs. But dog documentary Companions to None is one of those films I probably shouldn’t watch because I’ll just cry the entire time.

It’s about the overwhelming street dog population in Mexico (I highly recommend Amores Perros – or Love’s a Bitch in English, for a fictionalized-but-apt examination of Mexico’s bizarre relationship with dogs.)

My neighborhood, as I’ve explained before, is an odd microcosm of this societal ill. There’s people like me, walking our fancy, neutered, well-loved dogs in beautiful Parque Mexico. Never far away, though, are street dogs. Sad street dogs with open wounds, limps and desperately sweet souls. And because there is no consistent sterilization program for street dogs, these dogs keep reproducing, in the shadows, ignored by most. Thankfully, a few kind people in the neighborhood do try to take care of these dogs, such as putting out mats for them, feeding them, and taking them to the vet/groomer’s if they need help. More than once a street dog has followed me home, hoping for a hand-out. Of course I oblige when this happens.

Go to more rural parts of Mexico and profound poverty and cultural norms exacerbate the problem. People barely have enough money to feed themselves (and their large families — contraception for humans is not a wildly popular idea, either), so taking proper care of street dogs is low on the list of priorities.

Flickr Photo by patotenere

As well, a persistent belief that neutering male dogs will make them “gay” keeps sterilization programs from taking hold. One woman in the film trailer credits the Catholic Church with propagating this belief, and I’m not surprised. Homophobia knows no bounds, not even when it comes to pets.

As the LA Times explains, the film may not be widely seen. (I want to give a shout-out right now to the Times for having excellent coverage of Latin America at a time when most news divisions are cutting staff.)

“Problems securing a wide distribution for the film may obstruct the diffusion of what is an important message. Buchanan said American networks such as Animal Planet, Discovery and HBO passed on broadcasting the documentary and that a deal with TV Azteca –- one of Mexico’s two main commercial broadcasters –- fell through.”

I do hope the film gains momentum, or at least the important message it carries. Sterilizing dogs is far more humane than letting them over-populate, starve on the street, and create more starving puppies. And the more your sterilize, the smaller the problem gets with every passing generation.

Photos: Into the Valley of Fire, Nevada

Brendan crosses the endless waves of sandstone.

During our brief trip to Las Vegas, we decided to go hiking at the nearby Valley of Fire State Park. The place is gorgeous, in the way that the moon is gorgeous: eerie, sparse, oozing and hostile. I loved it, but even in late October, the heat was a bit like walking into an oven with the broil setting on.

The thing I like best about the Western U.S. is the geology. Millions of years ago, were these fantastic shapes created in only a few days’ time? The globular simplicity of the land against the sky is also disorienting: Some of these photos below are of giant rock structures, but without a human or other recognizable object, it’s hard to assess the scale of them. What looks like a mile may be only a few feet, and vice versa.

Layers of shades of orange.

It is easy to anthropomorphize the rock. Do you see a side view of a skull in here? I do.

It's similar to the Garden of the Gods in Colorado Springs, but with far less vegetation and a lot more grilling heat.

Strange dual-vertical lines crisscross with the more typical horizontal lines in the sandstone.

While hot, standing out in the desert is cooler than standing out in a parking lot in Las Vegas, where the asphalt radiates heat. Note the small state park road in the middle of this photo.

How Hurricane Ike Ended Up REALLY Pissing Me Off

Actually, I can’t totally blame Hurricane Ike for this — we, us humans, are guilty, too. We built too many houses in too many vulnerable areas, and then Ike showed up and blasted it all to hell. What do you get? A big g-darned mess up and down the Texas coast. Including the world’s longest undeveloped barrier island, Padre Island.

I understand the need to live reallllly close to the beach. I aspire to live on the water, too. But it’s not exactly smart or environmentally sound.

Normally, I can ignore these news stories, which just end up pissing me off.

But this happens to be the ONE WEEK I am HOME to experience it:

Hurricane Ike Dumps a Mess on Padre Island Beaches

Damnit.

Corpus Christi Botanical Gardens = Texas-Sized Flora and Fauna

PHOTOS!

o

That's a hibiscus I'm holding up to the camera.

A really, really big black bee.

A butterfly

A slightly larger butterfly.

No Mas? Beloved Old-School VW Beetles in Mexico City

My father-in-law took this great shot of a VW on the Eje Central near chocolateria el morro.

It’s with a somewhat sad heart that I read this: Mexico City set to kick out Volkswagen Beetles

I’ve always loved how Mexico City (and many cities of Mexico) are crawling with old-style VW beetles. As a pre-teen, I used to fantasize that my first car would be a red convertible VW bug. (That or a baby blue Jaguar. Teens are fickle). There’s something inherently cute and comical about them, and they definitely fit right into the Mexico City psyche — cheap, compact, efficient, noisy.

But it’s that noisy part that’s bad — those engines in the “vochos” (as they’re called here and also spelled “bocho”) are bad for the environment and not remotely fuel-efficient. So the city is planning to replace the vocho taxis with newer models. Proudly, I have already done my part for posterity — I’ve ridden in a taxi VW beetle in Mexico City not once, but twice.

It would be so cool if they auctioned ‘em on eBay. A girl can dream, no?

My favorite VW Beetle I’ve spotted so far in Mexico:

It's a stretch vocho!

The Worst Seasickness EVER?

When I first heard this news on the radio this morning, I immediately felt queasy:

Coast Guard Launches Search for Freighter Stranded in Ike’s Path

“The U.S. Coast Guard and the U.S. Army launched a rescue mission this morning to save the 22 crew members on a Cypriot freighter loaded with petroleum coke that was wallowing helplessly some 90 miles southeast of Galveston as Hurricane Ike continues its approach, the Coast Guard said.

‘It’s very similar to being on a continuous roller coaster,” said David Weathers, an executive board member for American Maritime Officers. “It’s very, very hard to move – very, very hard to do anything.”“

When I was 18, and a volunteer with the Texas Marine Mammal Stranding Network, I went out to sea with a group of marine biologists who were releasing, Xeno, a dolphin. In the previous months, we had nursed him back to health from near death. (I basically spent my senior year of high school next to his tank recording his respirations or stuffing medicines into frozen fish.)

On the day of Xeno’s release, we went out on a large UT research boat into 20-foot seas. Within minutes, my stomach and head were spinning and churning as if I was, well, on 20-foot seas. There is NOTHING that makes the dizziness go away, since the horizon looks like the long, hellish end of a see-saw. I foolishly took Dramamine and all that did was keep me from vomiting, I was still incredibly sick.

So, these poor souls stuck on this freighter in what meteorologists are saying may produce the worst storm surge in Texas in 100 years? I just simply can’t imagine the hell.

If You’re Hurricane Ike-Obsessed Like Me

Hurricane Ike at 1:30 Wednesday. Damn him.

Google Maps now has a hurricane tracking feature. It’s pretty awesome, although at the same time pretty scary. As you can see, the current prediction is for Ike to make landfall on my homelands of Corpus Christi. Here’s hoping it gets fickle with the forecasters and veers way north (as in, Louisiana. Houston has my family in it, too) or way south (although not too close to me, claro.)

Also a good bookmark is the National Hurricane Center, where I just learned that within just the last four hours, Ike grew to a Category 2.

Amid Condos and Booze Cruises…

….you can still find some real wildlife in Puerto Vallarta.

(Sea turtle babies ready to be released).

Photos: Sailing to Islas Las Marietas, Mexico

I wish I could say I was on THIS sailboat. No, sadly, I was on a giant booze cruise boat.

Islas Las Marietas are a group of three small federally protected islands off the coast of Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. Several species of endangered birds live there, and the marine life is abundant. When the conditions are right, the snorkeling is excellent.

In other words, it’s a Joy sort of place.

I booked us a tour through Vallarta Adventures to Las Marietas, falsely assuming the boat was like they promise: a catamaran sailboat. Wrong! It was one notch above a booze cruise: Ninety people stuffed onto a platform-style boat, forced to listen to “I Will Survive” by Donna Summer while Julio the tour guide randomly grabs people and dances with him as he tells not-hilarious jokes about Mexico (“the sharks love tourists!”)

My advice if you want to visit Marietas?

Don’t choose Vallarta Adventures.

So, anyway, no, I didn’t get to experience a relaxing day sailing at sea, but I at least got to see the Marietas up close. With 90 other people. And “Thriller” blaring in the background…*frowning*

The trip took about an hour from Vallarta. Here is the main island way off in the distance.

We pass one island, head to another.

Many birds call this home.

Snorkeling area before 90 of us jumped in and started slamming into one another.

So, now that you have seen the islands, this was my view when I turned around in my seat to see what was happening on board. Peaceful, isn't it?

It’s for the Birds: Lake Minerva, Wisconsin

I’ve always been a nature girl, and that’s one of the primary reasons I love visiting Lake Minerva each summer. Like my hometown of Corpus Christi, it sits under a major migration flyway for birds, so it has a whole honking (pun intended) slew of strange and interesting birds.

First, of course, the bald eagle. This is the second year the big girl has nested here:

They stay just far enough away to get a really clear shot.

I'm pretty sure Charlie could fit in that nest.

Of course, one of Wisconsin’s and Minnesota’s most beloved birds are the loon(s). Their call is a long, moaning, slightly maniacal sound. It sounds a little like wolves baying at the moon, but the call is actually coming from a harmless duck-like bird making a big crazy fuss for no apparent reason. (And not to anthropomorphize here, but don’t we all know someone like that?)

Loons are beautiful.

Squee alert: Here's a loon baby, which also rides around on mom's back.

For the first time ever in my travels to Lake Minerva, I saw Canada Geese. I sort of dread the re-appearance of these guys. They are completely over-populated (even I, animal lover, can confess that) in the Northeast and they are so messy. As evidenced here:

That poor deck. Ick. At least the goslings make good food for eagles and otters.

And, like in Corpus Christi, there are great blue herons:

He (or she) has her (or his) neck down, ready to catch a fish.

While I’d like to take credit for all these lovely photographs, proper credit is due to Ma and Pa Victory.

The Lime-Green Spider in My Lime-Green Plant